Seeing the Grey
by Captain Octopi
Summary: I gaze into his eyes, and they enrapture me without a moment of notice. He's put us too close. I've never felt... Oh, goddess. I'm stuck.
1. Thoughts

"Mama?"

A small girl of only age six tugged on her mother's silky flowery skirt. She was still very tiny, even for her age. Her mind though, was a void of curiosity and skepticism. It longed to know how things worked and why they worked.

"Yes, rose?" her mother answered soothingly, running her hand down the girl's hair, the soft color of chestnuts.

"Why do you love me?"

Her voice was small and sugary and stole her mother's attention from the plants in the kitchen windowsill. For hours, she had watched her mother stare out this window, appreciating the beauty of the world, forgiving it of its faults. She forgave the mistakes that people had done to the land, such as plowing down forests and dumping waste into the oceans, and focused on the positive. The fact that life still existed on this earth, that it was so lovely and charming. "The romantic atmosphere of the wild," she called it.

She mostly spoke of roses when that subject came out. They were beautiful and held love within each and every petal. And whenever the girl's father brought her flowers, they were always roses. Roses symbolized an ever-blossoming love, something everlasting. They both believed their love would never wither for new roses always showed up for her. And so her daughter became her rose.

The mother flashed a sweet smile and lowered herself to her daughter's height. The woman was much like a rose herself in the way she shared love with every person and could never look down upon anything.

Their violet eyes matched, however, the little girl's hid sorrow that her mother's never possessed, obviously from her constant over thinking. The woman's shone brightly in the light, reflecting her motherly love.

"I love you," she said quietly so only they could hear, "because you are the most precious, amazing thing in this whole world. You are my beautiful daughter, and my only daughter. Nothing could ever get in the way of that."

Her daughter smiled shyly and looked down at her tiny toes. Her mother's words rang with honesty, with sincerety. Silence persisted for a few moments before the little girl's curious eyes climbed back up to her mother's acconpanied by that same loving smile.

"Why do you love Papa?"

"I love him," she said with a lighter tone, rolling her eyes up to the light of the kitchen, "because he loves us. Because of his smile, his happiness. Because he is the love of my life."

The 'love of my life' part was what the girl didn't understand. She says she loves him more than anything, but at the same time she loves her daughter more than anything.

"Could he get in the way of me?"

The mother, aback, chewed her lip, her gaze returning to her precious little one. Slowly, she shook her head.

"No," she replied. "No he wouldn't. And I'm sure he would say the same for me."

The girl studied her mother with intriuged eyes, but refused to ask anything more.

Here was the paradox.

* * *

Love; it's not a touchy subject for me. Over the years, I've learned exactly why people love. It's from my limitless imagination, people say. This is not true. I am not creative or imagination or anything quite like that. I am a listener.

Love; what is it? Nothing. It's just another feeling like any other. You may be hurt, but time heals the wound. You may feel happy, but before long it just fades into boredom. Like any other emotion, love goes away.

And so, this brings me to my conclusion on the subject of love:

People 'love' because they are stuck.

A woman has a child with a man who says that he loves her. In truth, he does not and leaves when she gets pregnant. The woman, however, begins to love the child. But why? It's because she is stuck with it.

You see? It happens everywhere. Arranged marriages always turn out better than chosen ones because they feel like they are trapped and must fix it. The result of that is love. But with chosen marriages, there is that thought of escape at the back of their mind, nagging at them. And before long, one of the partner's strides for that freedom. There is no love because they are not truly stuck in place.

One more example, if I may. People crave adventure in their lives, and say they must find love to ease that lust. They must find a partner to 'settle down' with. Yes, love is a journey for awhile, but soon they find themselves stuck in that journey and want more. So, they marry and find themselves further stuck in love. Now, they crave an escape, and you know the rest. Heartbreak and tragedy.

And so, I don't believe in true love. There is no one person in this world who could make me say "I love you," because it would simply not be true. Not even my mother. My mother was amazing, meant very much to me, but I did not love her.

You believe I am crazy, don't you? Well, go ahead and think that. I don't care what anyone says our thinks of my belief. I _am _my own person.

And this is why I am leaving for the secluded town of Konohana. It's quaint yet lively enough for me to still feel alright. I will also be doing something I have never done before: farm. And at any moment I may leave it and not feel any guilt because I am one who does not get stuck. I am one who doesn't love.

Quite repetitive, aren't I? Well, it seems that is the only way to knock sense into you people. Oh, not that I'm trying to sway your opinion! I just wish for you to understand. Understanding is very rare among people today, as I have learned from my listening abilities.

Listening is another thing you people should work at. It is quite a rare gift for one to be able to comprehend every surrounding, every background. I certainly inherited the talent from my grandfather along with my astonishing memory. (Which has never failed me, I might add.)

Say, you find me rude, blunt, and commanding? This is true - I am all those things and more. Perhaps I make you livid with my speech, or just irk your very core. Or possibly you find yourself fascinated with my views. Any way, I don't care.

Oh, yes. That is another thing about being stuck. If one is not happy, er, fine with themselves, they find themselves stuck in self-loathing. Hate is love; it is just another version of that feeling. It also fades with time, but it much more difficult to abscond. You see, hate is easier to feed, and it is much more hungry of an emotion.

I am not making sense... Well, to myself I am... Perhaps there will be a time soon where I may properly explain hatered to you.

* * *

"Ge'toff," the driver said bluntly, yanking the door's lever. Tiny gray hairs pricked his face, and round glasses shaded his disgusted eyes. He looked like he had dragged himself out of the garbage before work, and didn't care at all for the terrible smell that rose from him. His clothes were in rags, and a line of sweat stained his cap.

I shielded my eyes from him with the brim of my hat as I coughed up the cash.

"Thanks," I muttered sardonically though I doubted it was audible to his old ears. Cool air came up to greet me through the open door along with a waft of forest scents. It was a bit refeshing, seeing as the bus smelled of something awful. I pulled myself along, out of the bus. The moment my feet met the ground, the driver floored it, spraying dirt and pebbles in my face.

Coughing and waving the dust away, my squinting glance firmly planted itself upon the scenery. A forest with a path heading downward. It was nothing special, and looked much like the forest you might see in a campground. It just excluding the rubbish sporadically hidden beneath the trees. I began to head down it with minor excitement. Nah, my anxiousness was so mild you could hardly call it excitement.

This was just different.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and found myself in surprise by how heavy it was. I was not one for luggage. The only things I owned were clothes, and there weren't many of them. I sighed.

_Down mountain path, take a left to Konohana. The farm will be..._

Uh. I couldn't remember the directions, and I had just trashed my old phone. What? It was five years old and had been submerged more than once. The screen had a permanent pink film, and half of the buttons didn't work. I'm surprised it was still operable at all.

Whatever. I continued downward until I found the break in the path and took a left. I was hard to keep my mind away from anything but the land.

You see, beauty is much like love to me except there _are_ things in this world that are beautiful. Perhaps it is because beauty is not a feeling, not something truly felt within us. It is simply how something is expressed that makes it beautiful. And trust me, this place is not it. Others may have beamed at this sight, but I have yet to experience something truly beautiful...

I am in the same mindset for ugly things. What makes something ugly? I don't know because things have yet to be like that for me. You say that person is ugly? No, that person is natural. But about that car? Isn't the way the hood is bent upwards ugly to you? Or that outfit? That skirt is just so unflattering!

Oh, that's just silly. Inanimate objects being ugly? I honestly think you need your eyes checked.

Swaying away from my jumbled thoughts, I found myself looking down at the town of Konohana. It was obviously very cultural, as seen by the houses and other buildings. Gardens and fields were laid alongside them in darkened soil. An orchard sat just apon the edge, brightly dappled with varying fruits.

This was closer to beautiful, but I couldn't call it that myself.

I sauntered into it with a slight bounce in my step, hoping that the directions would suddenly come back to me. It was an often occurrence, actually, for things to pop back into my mind without a moment notice.

Maybe I should've entered one of the buildings and asked the townsfolk for assistance. No... I'm too stubborn for that. I'll let someone else find me, or I'll find my farm myself.

The more I looked around, the harder it hit me. This place was tiny. Sure, there was a lot of land here, but there couldn't be more than twenty homes here. Perhaps it was because of the solitude. Many people would go mad living in a town this size.

Me? No. I'm already crazy as it is. A town like this couldn't do anything to me besides give me a break from city life.

Still... there are people like me out there. Why haven't they gone out and moved into this place before me? And it was surprising cheap for a farm.

Maybe the farm is in a state of disrepair? Eh, I seriously doubt that in a place like this. People who kept their homes this tidy would be ashamed not to upkeep a small farm, much less let it fall to ruin.

I found a path branching out from the town and quickly change my course.

Ah, ha! My natural sense of direction would never fail me! And the farm is much like I imagined: well kept and tidy. Also, the house looks just as it did online. That's new, isn't it? There is no plowed land, but I expected that too.

Uh. I don't know how to plow land. By hand, that is. Use a hoe or whatever it's called? I'm going to have to ask someone for help...after I check the place out.

I turned the knob on the farmhouse and stepped inside hesitantly. What I saw was startling. The place was so clean and perfect.

Yes, things can be perfect to me.

Anyway, it was so nicely arranged, it was as if it was a hotel room. The place smelled of flowers, and it was like someone cleaned up there everyday even if there was nothing to clean. It just kind of...sparkled. (In a metaphorical sense, of course.)

The first thing I did was throw myself onto the bed, tossing my bag to the side. I sunk deeply into the covers, and a clean, fresh scent surrounded me.

Whoever did this is awesome.

I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed around the rest of the room. I had a kitchen, a bookshelf full of lengthy novels, a nice dining table, an ancient-looking vase for flowers, and several dressers and cabinets placed sporadically. The bathroom seemed to be the only other room. Still, living here will be nice.

The place almost reminded me of my old home. My first home. Mother used to keep it much like this, and I easily followed in her footsteps.

My feet flew up in the air and I swung my head off the side of the bed, freeing my hair. It nearly touched the floor at its length. It was still fairly short and perfectly straight though. I didn't mind it at all. Being only shoulder-length, it was easy to manage, and I never had to style it. Not that I would style it if it was long. It probably just let it grow into some mangled nest if it grew out..

Knuckles rapped on my door, light but sure.

"Come in," I called lazily, swinging my feet to and fro.

A stout woman stepped into the room. Her step was very certain and strong, much like the expression on her face; stern. She looked quite...fanciful in her garb, whatever it was. Most of what I could tell was that it was red. Anyway, she glanced at me with very black eyes and raised an eyebrow at my position. She appeared to be the type of woman who was no-nonsense, and couldn't afford time to go to waste.

A pity, that was. I never liked people like that.

"Am I intruding?"

"Not at all," I replied lightly.

She entered further and closed the door with a soft click. Even her voice rang with a certain strength.

"What's your name?" she demanded, not missing a beat. Her hands strongly gripped her hips.

"Lillian. You?"

"Ina. I am Konohana's mayor. You follow my rule."

I shrugged. "Okay."

And then she began expounding about farming, right down to its history. I gave her curt nods every once in awhile to singal to her that I was 'listening'.

Hey, I never said I was a full-time listener.

Every few moments, my mind would wander away from her speech on to the countless experiences I could have here. I wondered about the townfolk, but quickly gave up on that thought and moved on to the hardships of the farm life. Just as quickly as the previous thought, I scoffed at myself. Obviously my farm would turn up grand, no matter the work. I'm not someone who just blows off a project halfway through.

Everyday I would get up at six or so to water the crops. That wouldn't be to hard. When planting came around, I could do it in the evening too and get a late start the next day. That would also work out well. I doubted they allowed animals here, so I had that covered...

I'm good! This will be a piece of cake.

"Do you understand?"

"Yup!"

"Then I will be on my way."

And then she left.

And I had absolutely no idea on what to do.

Now, you may find that I rush certain things, like reality, for example. You feel that I should slow down and take my time to describe these things. I barely brushed over the look of my farm, but that is only because I didn't feel the need to do so. You see, people understand how things look by only brief explanation. Why? I am not sure. Explaining my thoughts takes a much heftier paragraph. I have to go over every bit of my feelings, and I just feel its easier to describe my thoughts than it is to describe my adventure.

Are you irate with me yet? Oh, very well then... You will be before long, I assure you. Toying with people is one thing I enjoy. Ina must've ran back to her place, thinking of how scatter-brained I was. In truth, I meant to act that way to irk her. It's just one of the many joys of not exactly possessing a sound mind.

So here is my new mission: to irriate you to no end. I will break your mind, twist it, and shove it back down your throat. That sight will be one to behold, but it will not be beautiful.

_Oh, but Lillian! You have to admit that will be goregeous!_

To that, I say no. I won't love it, nor will it be beautiful.

_Fine. But you will enjoy it._

Yes, I will, my friend. Yes, I will.


	2. First Conflicts

Typos are just one of those many things I don't care about.

Another thing would be the sun. It could go burn up and wither away to nothing for all I care. It would be nice, actually, to have that flaming ball of terrible leave the universe forever. I mean, a couple of thousand degrees wouldn't be huge difference, would it? I'm sure it would be fine...

I raised my hoe over my head and smashed it into the ground with as much force as possible. Beads of sweat drizzled down my face and soaked me entirely. I'd been running myself ragged since six o'clock this morning, and I have not found it pleasant.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and gazed nervously at my work. Six tiny places cleared for crops mocked me and my ten bags of turnip seeds. Of course, I retorted violently with another swing of my iron tool. The cries of the dirt set me off, afresh, and I continued my cumbersome work. Each time the dirt spat up, I pictured tiny whelps running for cover...

Picturing myself as a giant there to raze insignificant villages made the job so much faster! I was surprised I didn't think of this before. My hoe was my axe, the dirt was the villages (and villagers), the seeds became the ashes of my sacrifices to the god of the harvest, and water became the ghastly beings that would forever haunt the land.

Fun, right? I think so.

I passed a glance at my watch, my face drenched in satisfying sweat. Very quickly the day was fading into the evening. Honestly, I had done very little... And I had yet to wander back into the town to get a feel of everything. For a moment I thought then cackled at myself.

What is the point of going back into to the town now? I have what I need here now, and I don't need to waste time looking around. When I did need to, its not like I would get lost. This town is tiny, after all.

I whirled my tin watering can around in the air before stuffing it in my rucksack, the odd bag Ina had brought me. I rather like it with all its compartments and space. Not to mention its a thousand times more handy than my dufflebag. It's a dull green color and looks as if its made for hunting, but it serves my purposes excellently.

My hand falls upon the dirt a last to time, compacking the seeds beneath in their resting place. The hard part of my job seems to be done for now, and all I have to do is water. Er, twice a day. I suppose that won't be too much, actually, considering I only have ten plants. A smirk falls upon my lips as I picture the turnips, ripe and ready for harvest. I'm certain that under my care, they will be the best, top-notch, and supreme turnips anyone has ever laid eyes upon!

You doubt me, don't you? We'll go ahead and wipe all of that skepticism away because I shall be the ultimate farmer lady. (Mmmm, hmm.)

After passing a last glance at my progress, I ran inside, away from the heat. My skin seemed to be boiling in sweat. Quickly, I ripped off my shirt and prepared myself for a cool shower.

The cold water was bliss for my skin and left me feeling more refreshed than I could have imagined. Afresh, I pulled on a grey T-shirt and shorts, smelling of sweet coconut and mouth-watering vanilla.

Stupid perfume, riling up my sweet tooth like that. I grudgingly chewed my lip. Something to distract myself... a book? I wandered over to the packed bookcase and pulled a book from its containment. Looked rather boring... My finger leafed through it innocently and my glance scanned the pages. This font was too small.

Over and over I tried books, but I found disinterest within all of them. I sighed, allowing the last one to drop out of my hands and slam on the floor. It stirred the tiny, unapparent dust and bleakly reminded my of my situation. My lips worked back into a sneer at the thought.

I am alone, but I am not. I am never _truly_ alone. Greedy, I grabbed for my dufflebag and yanked out a large plushie. A snow leopard.

Ah, perhaps this needs more explaination. My leopard's name is Sugar. She is loyal, demanding, and preppy, like a queen. But she is my friend, so no judging her!

_Lillian, you need real friends._

Real friends are cruel. They stab you in the back and grind your feelings against a concrete slab. Enough said.

I freely jumped onto my bed and comfortingly tucked Sugar in against me. Her scent was fresh; she was newly washed.

...

Sighing, I dumped Sugar onto the floor.

Backstabbers are good sometimes. Already bored, I swung my feet from my cozy bed and grumpily tied on my sneakers. They hugged my feet nicely as I stormed out of the house, slamming the heavy door behind me. I didn't care at all that my hair was still damp, but I took a comb from my pocket and painstakingly detangled it.

For a moment, I was uncertain and lost. The humidity touched my skin and a familiar scent wafted to me, filling my nose. Refreshing... and strange. A chill breeze also presented itself and brushed through my newly-combed hair, billowing a soft scent of my perfume in my face. Somewhat awed, I glaced skyward. The sky puffed with darkened clouds and heavy rain, ready to pour.

Uh, how? Only an hour ago the sun angrily seared my skin and nipped away at my energy. Now, the grey filled the area, and my entire self became dampened. The rain was always something dreadful. It was the reason I couldn't live in areas with much of it. It just depressed me, sent me into a choatic mood. And no one ever found it the least bit attractive.

I stuck my foot forward onto the pathway, avoiding the plants that furtively crept through the cracks. I'd never heard of much rainfall here before, but I'd also only been here a day. Swiftly, I trudged into the village, desperately trying to escape the melancholy skies overhead. Perhaps Ina had mentioned something about the rain while I was busy in la-la-land. Oh well.

Oddly, I found myself within a quaint building before I could think. Escape had become an instinct. I yanked open the first door in sight, and slipped inside soundlessly.

The place was not bad at all. The cleanliness startled me, and it seemed just as orderly as my home. Tables and chair perfectly had been placed, not an inch too far apart, and it just rang with tradition. Every ordiment had to have been hand-selected with sedimental value, for they were uncanny yet pleasing to the eye. I shivered daintly, admiring the intricate atmosphere. It was nice. However, the warm air smelled of fried goods and oriental dishes. It sent a boil rippling hungrily within my stomach, and I bit down hard. I'd found the right place.

I stepped up to a fancily decorated counter. "Hello?" I called.

Platters shifted in the back room, accompanied by a woman's voice. It sounded sweet yet frail, and I couldn't place her words exactly. Busily, the noise continued, but after a few moments of waiting, a small old woman appeared in the doorway. She held many plates full of steaming foods. My mouth watered greedily.

She looked like a sort of motherly woman. Or, er, a grandmotherly woman. Her eyes were warm and calm. The clothes she wore were nice, but out-of-date. A bun sat, lazily bound, on top of her head, pulled back by a nice ribbon.

"Oh, hello," she returned sweetly, stopping before she reached the end of the counter, before me. "You must be Lillian. Ina has told us much about you."

"Yes," I nodded. "And you are?"

"My name is Yun. This is my teahouse." She slid the dishes onto a counter beside her.

"Oh. You don't suppose I could get something to eat here?"

"Of course, dearie. The menus are on your right."

The conversation was short, simple, and great. Perfection. I fetched myself a menu and casually flipped through it, eyeing the already prepared food. It all looked delicious... and it was piping hot... and...

I bit my lip, closed the menu, and ordered a sort of noodle dish. My sluggish pronunciation emitted a laugh from the woman, and she quickly ran back to cook, retying her apron behind her as she went.

I plopped down in one of the seats. Sadly, my peaceful waiting was short-lived.

Someone stormed in, biosterous and laughing boomingly. An older teen, young adult. His muscled arms were tatooed with bands, and his dark hair casually hung around his face, most of it refusing to gather in the tail at the back of his head. He wore a sleeveless jacket-thing and overall looked fairly typical. Following him was a shorter guy, looking much more professional. He wore a thin white coat and a stethoscope had been wound around his neck. His hair had been nicely trimmed. A doctor, most likely, and he was probably older than his boyish looks and round-ish face allowed knowledge for.

They came in happily, and I was certain the food the woman, Yun, had prepared was for them. She had been expecting them to come in.

The loud one greeted Yun distastefully, but she didn't seem to mind. The other one kindly offered his greeting and, naturally, recieved his food first. Ah, it's so simple and obvious. Something as stubtle as that can be the key to someone's feelings toward another. Every action is effected... Though she's more open with the one, the other has won her over...

I sighed desperately. Not that I didn't need to think; I simply didn't want to think. Right now, I was focused on getting some backstabbers and some food. However, I don't see a friendship blossoming between me and those guys. Er, perhaps the shorter one.

"Lillian, your food is ready as well," the woman called at me.

"Huh? I just ordered."

She only gave me a sly smirk and turned, passing my dish onto the front counter. Of course, this is when the guys noticed my presense. The one hollered obnoxiously as I stood to retrieve my food.

"Lillian, is it?"

I glanced, interested, at the shorter one as I ignored the larger one. "Yes."

"Hm. I'm Hiro," he replied calmly with a friendly smile. His teeth were perfect. I was envious instantly. Withdrawing my gaze, I plucked my food from the counter and sniffed it.

"You're a doctor, aren't you?" I mumbled indifferently.

"Somewhat. I am apprenticing for Doctor Ayame. Have you met her?"

"Not quite yet. I'm certain I will soon though."

"Ah. And you are the new farmer?"

I nodded, curt.

"Odd. Someone of your stature doesn't strike me as a person able to handle such exacting work."

My lips drew back, displeased. An unexpected glare hit him squarely.

"You underestimate me," I decided firmly.

"I do hope so," he recovered swiftly, grinning. I immediately marched away from him and returned to my seat. How is it that such a small coment could anger me so largely? It's because I've always been like that. Simplistic things set me off.

Once planted in the comfy chair, I gaze smally at the larger guy, and he's irked by my evasion. Our eyes meet lazily, but I keep a firm sight and begin nibbling at my food. I was not quite interested in his games. Luckily, after a few seconds, he'd already given up.

Oh, how I hated guys like that. They have the "signature" smirk written across their faces, and everything they do is cool. I have dealt with enough of those in my life.

I took larger bite of the pasta, and I was in love. All of my focus left the background in a single, actual taste. It was creamy yet possessed a light spice that seemed to dance about my tongue. The consistency was brilliant, and everything was cooked to absolute perfection.

The guys sat far from me, but oddly, it seemed too close for comfort and even the food could not lull the strange feeling that nudged me. Quickly, I had downed the plate and was ready to head back. Home. I left the coin on the counter, glancing back at them.

Stupid, stupid me. The last thing anyone should ever do ever is look back. That means you are interested. I was NOT interested in them. In fact, I already couldn't stand one of them, the one I hadn't even spoken to. The other seemed to prod me with his mere presense though, and that was nearly as bad. I jerked my head back around, clentching uncontrolably, and left without goodbyes. Uh, me! WHY? I am terrible.

You see? This is what rain does to me. It makes me extremely annoying and stressed. Well, to me, at least. Normally I probably would've been fine with all of that, but this dreadful sky liquid always melts my brain down into a curt, controlling mush. I absolutely hate it.

And so I ran. I sprinted through the soggy ground, my shoes spitting up water at me. I ran home as fast as possible. My hands instinctively closed around the knob of the door and pulled it ajar, and I fell inside. I didn't even care to fall on my bed. I just iterally fell on the floor, on my face. Yes, it hurt a bit, but it was nothing serious. I had always believed a little fall on the face every once in awhile was healthy anyway.

After a series of groans, I pulled myself towards Sugar and planted my head on top of her. (It's a good thing I threw her on the floor!) My lungs filled heavily with moistened air, I released it in a burst.

I have a conflict. An enormous conflict. I'm not certain what it is yet, but I have it. It's definitely there. And its probably tangible too. But maybe not. I just know that there is a problem.

The rain beated down on the roof, and it made me a little glad - I wouldn't have to water again today, at least.

I don't know what I would do though if this storm worsened or lasted through the night... I'd probably curl up denfensively in a corner and only come out when the rain receded. Or I'd sit in the shower for hours.

My mind feels...numb.

My eyelids batted and suddenly fell close. My body finally succumbed to the aches I'd been ignoring all day, and I couldn't bring myself to scrap myself off the floor. Each limb felt as if it had been stretched beyond its limit and then was hacked at with a dull blade and tenderized with a hefty wooden mallet. What I hadn't realized at all though, was that my mind was practically mashed to pieces. My head fell to the side lazily, drooping only from the weight of extreme drooziness. Sleep creft up swifty and overwhelmed me within the minute.

* * *

The night cooed softly. No; it didn't. There was nothing. No sound, no feeling. The air paused and so did my breaths. The rain had been stilled, and a haze of darkness shrouded my vision. I blinked repeatedly to soothe my sight, but it only brought to mind my conflict.

Weary, I flopped over and pulled myself up, onto my bed. Almost instantly sleep tried to catch me, but I evaded it.

_Hate is like love, and I will not be stuck in place._

The thought melded with my other thoughts, and it was gone.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the long wait for this update... I meant to be finished last week or so, but I've had so many problems with my schedule and not a lot of time to write. Hopefully I'll find more time later. Sorry if anything is wrong, I don't have the game anymore.


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